Shattered Reality
by gateruner
Summary: The next story in my Steve/Catherine saga. Cath is very pregnant and growing more miserable by the day. She's becoming withdrawn and alienated from the team and her friends. Can she cope with her own insecurities? And can Steve help bring her back?
1. Chapter 1

Catherine made her way across the lanai as laughter drifted all around her. She gathered a few empty beer bottles and napkins as she headed into the back of the house.

There was the familiar clinking of glass as she placed the bottles into the recycle bin before she disposed of the napkins and other trash in the regular can under the sink.

Catherine wrapped her arms around herself as she stared out the back window. The sun was just beginning to sink low across the edge of the horizon, setting off brilliant hues of pink and blue. As she glanced upward, Catherine could just make out the twinkling of a few stars against the blotchy sky.

Another round of laughter drifted into the house and Catherine turned her attention back towards the lanai. All of 5-0 was gathered in a makeshift circle of lounge chairs. She eyed the empty one next to Steve, who seemed completely oblivious to her disappearance.

The group was all smiles. Danny and Kono were swatting at each other playfully and Chin was shaking his head as he laughed. Steve wore a brilliant smile as he Lou raised their beers in a mock salute.

They were a team. No, they were more than that, they were ohana. They were 5-0.

And Catherine, she was what exactly? Not a part of team that was for sure. She missed that closeness, that feeling of support. She had lost that security when she left the Navy, but had quickly found her footing with the very team she was now on the outside of.

Another round of laughter erupted and Catherine subconsciously slid her arms around her middle, just above her pregnant belly. She hugged herself tight as she started to gnaw on her bottom lip.

It was ridiculous, she kept reminding herself. There was no reason to feel so left out, so out of touch with her friends and family. Because that's what they were, right? They were all her friends and by extension, her family, her ohana. Nothing about that was any different than before, was it?

Catherine shook her head and busied herself in the kitchen, worrying over the marinating chicken breasts and large shrimp that were laid out on platters. She sprinkled on a little more seasoning and sliced a couple of lemons to squeeze the juice out of.

As she stood there with a used lemon wedge in her hand, she stopped. What was she doing? Was this what her life was becoming? She was a former Naval Intelligence officer for fuck's sake, not some barefoot and pregnant housewife!

Catherine flung the lemon rind into the trashcan, angrily squeezing the rest of the pieces across the top of the platters, not even caring that the seeds were dropping across the dish. One by one she pitched the used wedges into the garbage, feeling her anger grow with each toss.

Catherine washed her hands quickly and stormed out of the kitchen heading for the stairs. She tossed her head back as she paraded up the stairs and into the bedroom. She slammed the bedroom door for good measure, listening to the walls vibrate and picture frames rattle before settling against the wood paneling.

The whole situation was ridiculous, Catherine reminded herself as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She let out a long breath and rubbed her hands over her face. This wasn't like her to feel jealous and resentful of her friends.

Steve worked hard to assemble that team and forge those bonds. But where did that leave her? She knew he loved her, of that she had no doubt. He had taken her back without hesitation when she'd returned to the island. Their relationship picked up as though no time had passed between them.

Catherine rubbed her thumb against her ring finger, spinning the gold band and engagement ring. Steve had made his promise to her known right away. It had only been a few weeks since she'd arrived back home and he was down on one knee. Their time apart had only served to strengthen their commitment to one another and remind them both that life was too short.

And Catherine was beyond happy; her heart had felt so full she thought it might burst. It was beyond anything she could have imagined. Her fears of being rejected were blown away the moment Steve had hugged her on the beach that morning of her return.

So why now? Why question his love or his commitment? Why did she feel like she was playing second fiddle to Steve and the rest of the team? There was no place for her among the taskforce, other than the occasional contact she could still provide to Navy Intelligence. And that hurt. It hurt way more than she wanted to admit.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she sniffed her nose. Catherine glanced around the bedroom, her eyes landing on the wooden cradle in the corner by the porch door.

It was truly a thing of beauty. Hand carved teakwood, with the phrase "Hiwahiwa" engraved across one arm, Kono and Adam hand given the cradle to Catherine and Steve at their baby shower. That was almost two months ago, and it was the last time Catherine recalled feeling so welcome and a part of the group.

Over the past few months she had felt her relationships begin to drift, even with her sister friend Kono. Time had passed, Kono slipping into her own role as a wife and the caseload for 5-0 becoming more hectic, and they found themselves further apart.

There was a time, not long ago, that Catherine wouldn't have gone a single day without a text or call out to her friend. But that time was gone and Catherine felt herself become more alienated from everyone and everything.

Her life had become a never-ending sea of doctor's appointments and baby preparations. Nothing was her own anymore, all of her time and energy focused on preparing for the arrival of her child.

Steve was there, of course, as best he could be, given the frantic schedule of his job. He'd burst into doctors' appointments wild-eyes and winded but with a fierce determination. He had made a commitment and he would honor that, come hell or high water. No task was too small, no job to trivial, always reassuring Catherine that he was there for her.

But at what cost? Steve couldn't sideline his career for her, no matter what he tried to say. There were so many reasons why, money being the most practical. Unless they wanted to start panhandling on the streets of Waikiki, Steve needed to stay employed. Babies were expensive. Catherine had done the research and the math. The mean cost of raising a child to age 18 was approximately $250,000 in the US.

And what did she contribute to that? Nothing. That's what. Catherine felt a sob escape her throat as she crawled across the bed. She lay down and pulled her body pillow close as the tears began to swell. No, she had to get a grip on herself. There wasn't time to wallow in her own self-pity.

There were only a handful of weeks left before they baby was born. It was time to start taking matters into her own hands. Catherine tossed the pillow aside and rolled to the edge of the mattress. Blindly she reached under the bed and felt around until she grasped the edge of her laptop. She retrieved the device and sat back against the headboard as she booted it up.

Catherine had sent out a few emails and signed up for some message boards over the past couple of weeks, trying to put some feelers out on the market. She could still manage to do some basic recon and intel work even while she was pregnant. Running background checks were simple, nothing more than a few hours combing through someone's financials and she could pull in a couple hundred bucks easy. But she felt torn about it.

Catherine couldn't shake the feeling that Steve would disapprove in some way and because of that she felt the need to hide what she was doing. It fed into her irrational belief that Steve wanted a housewife. A kept woman. Someone to wash his clothes, clean his house, cook his meals, and keep his bed warm. He man. She female. And Catherine would be damned if she was going to get dragged around the proverbial cave by the hair. No, she had to do this. She had to make her own way. Contribute to the family and provide for her child.

The laptop dinged, signaling that she had new emails. Catherine scrolled through the messages, noting that most were trash, but a few caught her eye. One was from a man wanting to know if Catherine could provide some background on a new business partner. Another was from a woman who was sure her husband was cheating on her and wanted to get proof to take to a lawyer.

Catherine sighed and typed out her replies before powering the laptop back down again. She shoved the device back under the bed and rolled onto her side, burying her head in the pillow next to hers. She inhaled deeply, the light scent of saltwater and just a hint of shampoo tickling her nose. Steve was her last thought as she drifted off to sleep.

It was dark outside when Catherine awoke from her nap. She blinked rapidly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the warm glow of the bedside lamp. She arched her back and yawned, feeling her muscles protest against her efforts.

Catherine rolled over to look at the clock but found a surprise instead. There was a plate of food on the bedside table, along with an unopened bottle of water. A small piece of paper was tented next to the plate with a distinct scrawl "Thought you might be hungry when you woke. Love you – S"

Shaking her head, Catherine smiled and sat up as she retrieved the plate. Her smile grew even wider as she took in her meal. The grilled chicken was cut up into small bite-sized chunks, along with an assortment of grilled vegetables, and a few shrimp. All of it perfectly suitable for eating with her fingers.

She popped a piece of chicken into her mouth and chewed, thinking about her earlier misgivings. She felt better after her nap, but the overall feeling was the same. She had to find a way to fit back in. Something to make her feel useful and not so pathetic and miserable.

Catherine opened the water, noting that it was still cold, meaning Steve had been there fairly recently. She drank quickly, almost emptying the bottle in one gulp and turned back to her meal. She devoured the food, realizing just how much she needed the sustenance.

Satisfied that she'd cleaned her plate, Catherine gathered up the bottle and dish before making her way downstairs. It was quiet, save for the squeaking of the boards as she finally made it to the first floor. The living room was cast in shadows, illuminated only by the dim light coming from the study and kitchen areas.

Catherine made her way into the kitchen and placed her plate in the sink, finishing off the rest of the bottled water in another large gulp. She was screwing the cap back onto the bottle when a pair of hands snaked around her stomach. Catherine smiled, "Hey sailor."

"Did you have a good nap?" Steve's breath was warm against the skin of her shoulder.

"I guess," Catherine shrugged before she turned around in his arms, "Could have been a bit longer I suppose."

Steve gave a sad smile as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "You know you can talk to me about anything, don't you?"

"Of course," Catherine answered quickly.

Steve studied her for a moment, giving her an appraising look. Catherine felt awkward beneath his piercing gaze. She reached up and cupped his face with her hands, fingers brushing against they days growth of stubble against his skin.

Steve closed his eyes briefly, "Catherine," he breathed, "Don't." He shrugged her hands away and stepped back.

Catherine sighed, "What do you want from me, huh?"

"I want," Steve balled his hand into a fist but kept his voice even, emotions in check, "I want you to be honest with me. To tell me what's going on with you."

Catherine stared at the floor for a moment; silence permeated the room, the steady tick of the wall clock growing louder and louder with each passing second. Finally Catherine turned back towards the sink, turning on the faucet and grabbing the sponge, "I'm fine. There's nothing going on. I don't know why you think something is-" She had just begun to scrub the plate when she felt Steve's strong grip on her right arm, spinning her around, the dish slipping from her wet hands as it shattered against the tile floor.

"Dammit, Cath! Don't do this! Don't shut me out!"

Catherine stood in shock at the sudden outburst. She took in Steve's barely contained anger before settling her gaze back towards the floor. The light blue ceramic plate was scattered into wet fragments along the floor, soapsuds dripping from her fingertips.

Who the hell was he to get mad at her? Catherine felt her own anger begin to bubble to the surface. She reached for a dishtowel, snatching it from the cabinet drawer as she wiped her hands dry, "You have some nerve!"

Catherine squatted down and began retrieving pieces of the broken plate, "Don't you dare talk to me about shutting people out!" She could see his sandaled feet pacing back and forth before her, "I'm doing the best I can here, Steve."

The feet stopped in front of her and then Steve was there, squatting, his eyes seeking her own, "I'm worried, Cath. You haven't been yourself for a while now and I want to help, that's all." He reached out and took the ceramic fragments from her hands, "I need you to talk to me, to tell me what I can do."

Catherine closed her eyes and shook her head, afraid to speak, afraid that her emotions would spill over and shatter across the floor like the plate. She wouldn't be a burden, she couldn't. Catherine heard Steve sigh before he got up, tossing the broken dish in the trashcan.

Steve grabbed the broom and dustpan from beside the refrigerator and started sweeping up the remaining smaller fragments. He studied his wife carefully. She remained squatted on the floor, her arms wrapping around her chest, head down, and looking utterly defeated. He felt so frustrated and confused.

He had noticed her gradual decline over the past month. It was subtle but steady. Ever so slowly she'd begun to retreat into a shell. Steve could almost pinpoint when it happened, but he wasn't entirely certain.

Catherine had become a regular fixture at the Palace once they had married, always stopping by hang out or give some advice on a case when needed. Steve had enjoyed the extra time he got to spend with his wife and looked forward to her unexpected visits.

She would help out when they needed research or serve as a communications relay for the team in a crisis. As her pregnancy progressed, the team found themselves the center of her nurturing instincts. Catherine began running personal errands for the team, ensuring everyone ate when they needed to, and even reorganized the teams tactical gear and supplies.

One morning though, something changed. Catherine had been up early, even by Steve's standards. She'd left the house before him and was waiting patiently at HQ when everyone arrived. There was a piping hot carafe of coffee set out with everyone's coffee mugs, along with a box of fresh malasadas.

Catherine was all smiles as everyone gave their appreciation. Danny was sipping on his second cup of coffee, when it happened. In typical Danny fashion, he blurted out, "You know, you might just be worth keeping around for all this."

It was such a typical Danny thing to say. Nothing had been meant by it, no malice or disrespect intended. It was just Danny being Danny, in all his unfiltered glory. Everyone gave a chuckle and a shake of their heads, everyone that was except for Catherine.

Steve saw something shift in his wife, saw a flash across her eyes, something unguarded and dark, but it was gone almost as quickly as he'd noticed it. She smiled and then playfully punched Danny in the arm, giving a chuckle of her own. Steve had let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. And the team sat around eating pastries and enjoying the company.

After that, Catherine stopped coming around as often, no longer dropping by when she was out and about. No more checking on everyone's eating habits, or offering to pitch in when she could help. She began brushing off lunch dates, or had last minute plans whenever they tried to organize a team get together.

Next there was a decrease in phone calls and texts from his wife, little things for sure, but they meant something. The sound of her voice or a few hastily typed messages was always a highlight for Steve's workday. And they slowly dwindled away, until now he was the one making the calls or sending the texts. Hell, he'd even asked Chin to make sure his phone was working properly one day because she didn't respond to one of his texts.

Then Kono had approached him, genuinely concerned about her friend. She'd relayed that Catherine had seemingly ignored a few of her phone calls or messages as well. Steve had done his best to reassure his teammate that Catherine was fine, but even he had a hard time believing the words as they'd left his mouth.

Steve had tried to mend that bridge between Catherine and Kono himself. He tried to nudge his wife into calling her friend, even going so far as to suggest a girl's night out, but Catherine didn't respond. She had simply brushed him off and said she would get in touch, but never got around to it.

And then things started to shift between the two of them. Catherine had grown more distant both physically and emotionally. Gone were the early days of her pregnancy where all she wanted was his touch. Catherine started going to bed earlier or pretending to be asleep when he crawled into bed beside her after a long hard day of work.

She didn't want to cuddle or let him hold her when she slept, favoring her recently acquired body pillow instead. On that point, Steve tried to be rational. He'd read enough information about how uncomfortable pregnancy was and he tried not to take it personally.

But it had become so much more than that. Catherine rarely instigated any kind of physical contact anymore. And when she did, it was usually a diversion tactic, designed to waylay Steve from his questions or concerns. She never offered so much as a hug or a peck on the cheek. And while she didn't pull away from his advances, she wasn't enthusiastic about it. Sometimes she was almost unresponsive.

Conversation had become almost nonexistent between them. Steve had always made an effort to keep Catherine in the loop when it came to the team and what was going on on the island, but she started to seem bored by his words, disinterested in the world around her.

Steve had tried to make small talk, always asking about how she was feeling and how the baby was doing, but even that didn't seem to peak her interest. Dinners became more about eating and less about time spent together. Uncomfortable silences started to fill their mealtimes until Catherine began taking her food up to bedroom and eating her meals in solitude.

Once that began, Steve felt like something had to be done. He had labored over the idea for a few days before he finally gave in and called Catherine's doctor. He hadn't wanted to be one of those men who went behind their wives back, but he knew things couldn't continue the way they were.

Much to Steve's surprise, the doctor had voiced his own misgivings as well. He expressed his concern over Catherine's overall demeanor and mood. The doctor added the hormonal disclaimer of course, but he didn't just brush off Catherine's behavior either.

So Steve was given instructions to watch Catherine closely, to monitor any sudden changes in her mood or behavior and take notes. And so he'd begun to run a sort of covert surveillance on his wife, silently observing her as she paced around the house or sat alone by the beach. Watching for any sign that she might be ready to fall apart.

And now he wondered how close she was to doing just that, as she remained squatted on the kitchen floor. Steve blew out a breath and scratched the back of his head, trying to figure out what his next move should be.

Steve wondered if Catherine thought her disappearance earlier in the day had gone unnoticed. He was sure she thought she was being subtle as she made her way towards the house, collecting trash and bottles, looking for all the world like she was playing a good hostess.

But Steve knew. As soon as she got up from her chair, he knew she wouldn't be coming back. And when the questions about her departure started to surface, he'd given a pretty convincing story about her stomach being upset.

All through dinner Steve had his thoughts firmly planted on his wife. He would glance up at the patio doors, wondering if Catherine might be watching them from behind the sheer curtains. After everyone had left, he gathered up the plate of food that he'd set aside and grabbed a bottle of water. He scribbled out the note as an afterthought and headed up the stairs.

The bedroom was dark, save for the moonlight filtering in through the windows. It was enough light for Steve to make his way across the floor and set down the plate on the bedside table. He flicked the switch on the lamp, casting a warm glow across the one side of the bedroom.

Silently, Steve stood watch over his wife. She was lying on her side, with her back towards the side of the bed. She had her arms wrapped around his pillow, her face almost buried in it.

He could make out her steady breathing and the slight arch to her shoulder with the rise and fall of her chest. Steve reached out and brushed her hair back away from her shoulder before placing a gentle kiss on her skin.

Then he'd retreated to the safety of his father's study and tried to busy himself with a case file. Catherine had come down shortly after that, not even noticing him as she made a beeline for the kitchen.

Now, Steve felt like he was teetering on the edge of some giant cliff. And any wrong move could prove fatal. He sat down on the floor next to Catherine, reaching out for his wife, "C'mere."

Steve felt her stiffen as his arms wrapped around her and she resisted as he tried to pull her into a hug. But he wasn't going to back down, "Cath," he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead, "You've got to let me help you. You can't go on like this."

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Catherine's. And then he felt it happen. A small tremor shook her body, followed by another one and then a strangled cry erupted from somewhere deep inside her throat.

Catherine's arms moved quickly, wrapping around her husband's body, her hands fisting and balling the material of his cotton t-shirt. She buried her head against his neck as she fought the battle of emotions that were threatening to consume her.

"It's okay, I've got you," Steve tried to soothe her as he ran his hand up and down her back, gently rocking her as he went. They stayed locked in their embrace for a few moments longer before Steve felt Catherine's legs give in and she slumped backwards onto her backside. Steve moved quickly and shifted them until Catherine was almost sitting across his lap.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his neck before pulling back. Catherine felt like she was slowly losing control of everything in her life. This wasn't her. She wasn't some sappy female who wept on the kitchen floor. She was stronger than this. She was better than this! And she was going to find a way to ensure that her emotions didn't get the better of her. "I'm good," she lied.

Steve gave her a pained expression as he cupped her cheek, "No. No you're not."

But she would be. Catherine had to make sure of it.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

It had been two days since Catherine had had her "moment" on the kitchen floor, as she liked to call it. It certainly hadn't been a breakdown by any measure of the term. No, Catherine didn't have emotional breakdowns or outbursts. She was a strong woman, capable of enduring torture and interrogation techniques from some of the worlds most unsavory of characters. She was trained to compartmentalize, to see the logical and rational side of any situation.

And that's where she found herself now, a logical, rational situation. She sat back against the wooden bench and basked in the midday sun. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. A few stray whisps of hair blew against her face as the breeze picked up. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes from the bright glare reflecting off the sand on the beach but also served as a means to help her survey her surroundings.

Catherine watched as people came and went around her, bustling to and fro, seemingly oblivious to her presence. It was what she wanted, after all, but she felt that pang of loneliness begin to creep back into her thoughts.

No, no time for that now, Catherine shook herself from that line of thought. She was on a mission. Catherine scanned the area again before she spotted her target. The man was approaching from the east as he made his way towards her position.

The man was tall, maybe even a little taller than Steve, and he was lanky. Even his expensive business suit couldn't cover that fact. His white skin was extremely pale, like he hadn't even seen the sun in a year. Dark hair peppered his head, speckled with flecks of grey in a comb over style that Catherine was sure could rival Donald Trump. His hairline was receding slightly as well and he sported a pair of thin wire frame glasses atop his nose.

He stopped a few feet from the park bench, "You aren't exactly what I expected." He took in Catherine's pregnant belly and the small bag of pretzels and flavored water in her hands.

Catherine nodded, "Well I think that makes two of us." She motioned for the man to sit down beside her. Robert Fowler was a typical corporate mogul, a true white-collar capitalist from the mainland who had landed himself on the island in the course of his career. What Catherine had been able to ascertain of the man was that he was ruthless when it came to his business deals, cutting off competitors at the knees and leaving wreckage in his path.

Fowler took his seat beside her, clearing his throat, "Did you get the information I requested?"

Catherine popped a pretzel in her mouth and took her time chewing and swallowing before brushing her hands on her pants, "I did. But now it's time for you to give me some information in return. A little Quid Pro Quo."

The man's eyes narrowed, "I'm paying you to find answers, not ask questions."

Catherine shrugged, "Maybe. But I need to know what you're into. Better yet, I need to know what YOU have gotten ME into."

A look of confusion crossed the man's features, "Excuse me?"

Catherine couldn't tell if the man was truly in the dark regarding his latest business venture or if he was playing dumb. Catherine had to bank on the later, "Someone knew what you were looking for. Specifically, the quarterly reports and banking transactions for the last fiscal year. So why don't you cut the crap and tell me what it is that you really want to know about Targus Enterprises and their CEO, Miles Bradley."

Fowler shifted in his seat, "That's really none of your concern. What I do with the data is my own affair. Like I told you in our e-mails, I want to know the financial status of the company so I can weigh my options, nothing more."

"Yea, well nothing is ever that simple, now is it?" Catherine studied the beach before them, "I was downloading your data when I got hacked. Someone was waiting for me. They knew what files I would access and how I would try to retrieve them."

Catherine had wanted to kick herself for being so careless. She'd set up shop on the dining room table after Steve had left for work that morning. It had been nice to be on a job again, to have some purpose other than baby preparations or mundane household chores.

She'd begun her background investigation like any other, combing through various databases, searching for aliases and cross-referencing personal and business financials. Once Catherine had gained access to the corporate servers she'd quickly scrolled through the files until she found what had been requested. As soon as she instigated the download she knew it was all wrong.

"Crap!" Catherine's fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up the command prompt, typing in various protocols and relays, but nothing was working. She watched the screen flicker and another console box open, a flurry of executable commands scrolling down the screen. She couldn't keep ahead, couldn't lock out the ports or turn off the protocols fast enough.

"Son of a bitch!" Catherine slammed the laptop closed, flipping it over and jerking out the battery pack. She dashed across the room to the study and grasped the router, her fingers frantically unscrewing the coaxial cable from the box, also ripping at the power cord.

But she knew all of her attempts were useless. Whoever was behind the hack already had what they wanted. Her IP address was most certainly logged, right down to her physical location. How could she have been so stupid?! Why hadn't she just gone someplace public, where she could have piggybacked off an open wifi signal?

A sense of dread started to settle low in her belly. Catherine made her way towards the small safe in the corner of the study. She entered her code and listened for the pop of the electronic lock before she pulled on the handle. She retrieved her small berretta handgun as well as a full clip of ammo. She checked the weapon over carefully, loading the clip before closing the safe.

That weapon was now stowed in her purse, strategically placed between Catherine and Robert Fowler. "I need to know what I can expect, so I can plan accordingly," Catherine reasoned.

Fowler gave a curt nod, "I think it would be in both our best interests to part ways at this time. I apologize for any inconvenience this little incident might have caused you."

"Do you really think it's that simple?" Catherine began, "You think you can just walk away? No, I know all about you Robert James Fowler, born January 23rd, 1972 at Fairview hospital in Cleveland, OH. You are the son of Marsha and Ronald Fowler, an only child who excelled in business school. You graduated Summa Cum Luade from Ohio State in 1982 and went on to pursue your master's degree in economics the following fall." Catherine turned her gaze back towards her subject, "Need I go on?"

Catherine had done her research and found that Fowler had a questionable reputation in the business world and his ethics were certainly a matter of scrutiny. Shady didn't even begin to describe the transactions and dealing that Fowler seemed to find himself entangled in.

The man narrowed his gaze, "Are you threatening me?"

Catherine shrugged, "I don't think there's any need for threats." She took a deep breath to strengthen her resolve before she continued, "I'll give you the intel you wanted in exchange for the price we agreed upon. But know this, the governor's taskforce is going to take an unexpected interest in you while you are on the island. And they don't take too kindly to mainlanders coming in and setting up illegal shops or engaging in less than reputable business deals. So, if I were you, I'd keep my nose clean. Call it some friendly advice, as it were."

Fowler's face turned a deep shade of red, a thick vein bulging across the side of his neck, "Listen to me you arrogant little bitch! What I do while I'm on this island is my business and if you know what's good for you, you'll call off your lapdogs."

Catherine turned her gaze back towards the beach, seemingly unfazed by the man's sudden outburst, "If you want the data, let's see the cash. Otherwise I'm done here."

The man seemed to be at odds with himself for a moment, but he finally reached for his wallet and retrieved the money. He waved the bills in front of Catherine's face, "I better not ever see you again, are we clear?"

Catherine produced a small USB thumb drive from her purse as she snatched the money from Fowler's hand, "Believe me, I'd just as soon we never even met," she handed over the data drive.

Fowler took the thumb drive and slid it into the breast pocket of his suit. He stood up, straightening his jacket and smoothing down the front of his pants, "I'd say it's been a pleasure, but I'd be lying." He turned back towards Catherine and gave a wicked grin, "Good day to you, Mrs. McGarrett," he paused for a moment letting his use of her married name sink in, "and give my regards to the Commander." With a quick nod he retreated back in the direction he had come from.

Catherine felt like she'd been sucker punched. She should have seen it coming, should have known that Fowler would have done his own research on her. It still left her winded and more than a little on edge. Anonymity was the name of the game in the intelligence world and that was a luxury she non longer had.

Now she was facing two unknowns. First there was the hack and Targus Enterprises and now she had Fowler to contend with. She was exposed, her position compromised. The why and the how didn't even matter at that point, she had act quickly to protect herself.

Catherine reached back into her purse, fingers wrapping around the barrel of the berretta, giving her a brief illusion of security. Then she fumbled around the inside of her handbag until she retrieved her cellphone.

The wind picked up again, blowing her ponytail in several directions. She gripped the phone tightly as she scrolled through her call log, finger poised above Steve's number, his quirky grin smiling back towards her in the little icon next to his name.

What was she going to say? How could she even explain what she'd done? That guilt she'd felt at hiding was starting to gnaw away at her gut. She couldn't keep this from Steve. The situation was too dangerous to simply turn a blind eye. And what about her promise to never keep a secret from him?

Catherine clicked off the screen and sighed as she slipped the phone back into her purse. No, she had to do this in person. It was too important to take the easy way out. She gathered up her purse along with her foodstuffs and waddled towards the parking lot.

Steve was studying a set of building schematics on the plasma display, his team gathered around the tech table. 5-0 had just caught a break in string of jewelry heists that had taken place over the past few weeks. They had a CI firmly embedded in a smuggling ring that specialized in high-end jewels and commodities. That informant had paid off in a big way, landing them the intel on the next target and the details of when and where the heist would go down.

"Alright, we need to make sure we cover all exit points. Chin, call HPD and get surveillance started on that location. If anyone comes or goes, I want to know about it. Kono, I need you to map out any possible vantage points from the adjacent buildings. If you can find a secure location, I want you there with a rifle and scope when this thing goes down. Lou, I want you to coordinate with SWAT. Make sure they are fully briefed on the buildings layout and any possible entry and exit points. Danny, you're going to be with me. We're going to take point once our guests arrive-"

Steve glanced up as he heard a familiar clacking of hard soled sandals along the tile floor. He smiled as he recognized his wife making her way down the corridor towards the bullpen. Everyone turned their attention towards Catherine as she approached the group, "Hey guys. I hope I'm not interrupting." Catherine smiled and nodded as the teammates greeted her.

Steve slipped around the table and over to his wife, "Of course not. It's good to see you!" He gave her a quick hug and a chaste kiss, "What brings you by?"

Catherine gave a weak smile, mindful of everyone else in the room, "I was kind of hoping we could talk."

"Is something wrong?" Steve's smile faded quickly.

"I don't know, uh, maybe," Catherine shifted on her feet, suddenly unsure of her decision to come clean.

"What is it?" Steve's voice was full of concern.

Catherine glanced over towards the tech table, all eyes upon her. She had planned on telling Steve in private, but suddenly that idea didn't seem all that appealing. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if the entire team knew what going on.

"I need a favor," Catherine began, "I need you to run some background on a couple of people. Check for any criminal activity."

Steve gave a slow nod, "Okay. What, uh, what's this about?"

Catherine nodded, "I'll explain more, if we can just.." she gestured her hand out towards the tech table.

Steve shook his head, he was starting to get a bad feeling about whatever was going on but he agreed, "Fine. What've you got?"

Catherine stepped forward and slid next to Kono as she settled her gaze on Chin, "First name is Robert James Fowler, DOB 1/28/72."

Chin entered the parameters of the search and quickly found a match. He gave a quick flick of the wrist as the file appeared on the plasma display. The image on the file looked like a surveillance photo of some kind. The man was walking, mid stride, arms swinging out from his sides. He was clad in a dark business suit and it was definitely the person she'd met on the beach.

"That's him," Catherine breathed.

Chin nodded, "The FBI had him under surveillance a few years ago. Looks like he was implicated in a few money laundering schemes in Manhattan but no charges were ever filed." Chin typed in a couple of more parameters, expanding the search before shaking his head, "Guy looks clean otherwise. Not even so much as a parking ticket."

"Damn," Catherine whispered. She wasn't sure what she'd been hoping for, but the fact that the feds had been all over him and he'd come out unscathed didn't sit well for her.

"What's your interest?" Danny asked.

"He's here," Catherine turned her gaze towards Steve, "He's on Oahu."

Steve gave a guarded look, "Who is he, Cath? How do you know this guy?"

Catherine swallowed hard, "He's a client."

"A client?" Steve looked confused.

It was her moment of truth, "Fowler hired me to run background on a potential business associate."

"What?!" Steve was stunned, "Are you telling me you've been working intel jobs on your own?"

Catherine nodded but quickly defended, "It was my first job though. I thought I knew what I was getting in to, it seemed straightforward at the time and I thought we could use the money." Catherine watched as Steve started shaking his head in disbelief. "I needed something to do, Steve! I'm tired of sitting around feeling like I have nothing to contribute."

Steve shook his head as he leaned against the tech table. It was unbelievable. What the hell was Catherine thinking? Just what did she think she was doing? Steve tried to push his emotions aside, trying to focus on the task at hand, "Alright, so who's the target?"

Catherine turned back towards Chin, "Miles Bradley, DOB 7/14/81"

Chin tapped in the data and flung the results up to the screen, "Miles Everett Bradley, founder and CEO of Targus Enterprises. It appears Targus is a small company based out of Waikiki. Looks like they are a local distributor for medical equipment. They hold contracts with most of the local hospitals and doctors offices across the island."

"What's Fowler want with a company like that?" Steve asked Catherine.

"I'm not sure," Catherine shrugged, "He wanted quarterly financial reports as well as banking transactions for the past year. I'd just assumed he was looking to buy out the business."

"And now?" Steve knew there was more, there had to be.

"There's more to it than that, I just don't know what the connection is," Catherine knew she had to tell them everything, "And there's more."

Steve narrowed his eyes, "What more?"

Catherine took a deep breath, "When I was gathering the intel from the corporate servers I got hacked," Steve's eyes widened but Catherine forged ahead, "Someone must have known what I would be looking for. There was some malware embedded in one of the files, an executable piece of code that was triggered when I initiated the download. I tried to spoof the IP and reroute the DNS but I couldn't stay ahead of the code. I severed the connection but I don't think I was fast enough. I'm fairly certain they backtraced the IP all the way to the router."

Steve was floored, "Why would you do that, huh? Why would you take that kind of risk?"

"Steve, I didn't think-"

"NO! No you didn't think, Cath! Do you realize what you've done?! That's our home and you led these people there. Not to mention the fact that you illegally downloaded sensitive data from a secure server. You do understand that Targus has every right to press charges against you, don't you?" Steve began to pace the floor.

Catherine felt gutted but she forged ahead, "Fowler knows about me as well."

"What do you mean knows about you?" Steve countered.

"He knows my name, who I really am. He knows you too, Steve. He told me as much."

Steve covered his face with his hands and counted to ten, taking a deep breath. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. In all the years he'd known Catherine he'd never found her to be so reckless or make such rookie mistakes. Whatever was going on with his wife would have to take a backseat until he could make sure of her safety, "Okay. Just please tell me that you didn't hand over the information to Fowler."

Catherine gave a strangled sound and wrapped her arms around her chest as she stared down at the floor.

"Son of a bitch, Catherine! Jesus Christ! What the hell?!" Steve almost looked like Danny when he was worked up into a rant, his face red and arms gesturing as he stomped in place, "You gave up your ONLY piece of leverage against that man? Are you kidding me?!"

"Steve, I am SO sorry," Catherine shook her head as the tears began to fall.

Steve felt some of his anger deflate with the sound of his wife's cries. He glanced around the room at the rest of his team, all of them silently watching the scene unfold around them. He shifted uncomfortably before he stepped back to the tech table. He cleared his throat, "Okay, first thing's first. We need to find a way to track Fowler, to figure out what his next move might be."

Catherine wiped her cheeks and sniffed, "I have a way. I, uh, I embedded a GPS tracker on the thumb drive with the data I gave to Fowler. He probably still has it one him."

It was something at least, and it gave Steve a small amount of hope that his wife hadn't completely lost all of her senses, "Okay, that's good. Let's pull up the tracker and see where it is."

Catherine moved beside Chin and brought up the tracking software. She entered the chipset ID tag and watched the screen triangulate its position.

"There," Chin spoke up as the software registered the device, "Downtown Waikiki." He swept his fingers across the glass surface, zooming in closer to the map, "That's the Waikiki Business Plaza. That's where Targus Enterprises business offices are located."

Steve swore softly, "Alright, Chin see what else you can dig up on Fowler and Bradley." Chin nodded fingers already typing in new search parameters. "Danny," Steve turned to his partner, "You're with me. It's time we find out what Robert Fowler's game plan is."

Danny nodded, "Any idea how we're going to play this?"

"Find out what Fowler truly wants and make sure he doesn't get it," Steve checked his weapon before holstering it.

"I'm going with you," Catherine moved towards her husband.

"No way," Steve shook his head, "You're staying here until I get this whole mess sorted out."

"I'm not a child," Catherine countered.

"No, you're not," Steve agreed, "But you are carrying one. Mine. And I don't want you anywhere near either of these men until I know what we're dealing with. This is the safest place for you to be right now." He left no room for argument.

"Fine," Catherine relented.

Steve reached out and cupped her cheek, "I'm going to take care of this. And when I'm done, you and I are sitting down for a serious talk, you understand me?"

Catherine nodded before wrapping her arms around Steve and burying her face in his neck, "I'm so sorry, you have to believe me, I never wanted this to happen."

Steve hugged his wife back, cradling the back of her head before planting a kiss in her hair, "I know." He pulled back reluctantly, "Stay here. I'll be back soon, I promise." He gave her a gentle kiss, "I love you."

Before she could respond Steve was headed out the door with Danny in tow. Catherine brushed her fingers across her lips, "I love you, too," she whispered as Steve disappeared around the corner of the hallway.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Catherine's eyes skimmed the expanse her husband's office. Memorabilia and commendations lined the walls, medals and honors all laid out before her in a sea of certificates, coins, and medallions.

The bottled ship, the flag, the sea charts, all stood as testaments to the man and his legacy. The sacrifices he'd made for his country, his dedication and loyalty were above reproach. And right then Catherine had never felt so unworthy of that dedication and loyalty as she did at that moment

Catherine glanced over her shoulder, beyond the glass walls of the office and into the outer room. Chin, Kono, and Lou were all crowded around the tech table, huddled together, eyes darting between one another. Catherine felt a pang of regret as she caught Kono's gaze before she quickly spun back around. She couldn't face her friend, or any of the team for that matter.

What had she done? Catherine felt physically sick as she sat down in one of the chairs in front of the large desk. All of this mess and for what? Because she couldn't handle being pregnant? Couldn't get a grip on her own emotions?

The implications of her actions began to weigh on her as she shifted in her seat. Steve was out there facing an unknown element all because of her. She could still hear his voice and see the look in his eyes before he had left….

" _I'm not a child," Catherine countered._

" _No, you're not," Steve agreed, "But you are carrying one. Mine…._

Catherine had registered the set determination in his eyes and the way he emphasized the word 'mine' when he spoke. There was a fierce possessiveness in his tone that left no room for interpretation. He had staked his claim and nothing would stand in his way.

And there it was again. Catherine felt that nagging little bit of doubt come creeping up to bite her squarely in the butt.

What was she to Steve? A possession? Or just the mother of his child? Some sort of human incubator that was a means to an end? A way to have a child and the family Steve so desperately wanted and needed to fill the painful void left behind from his father's death and even Freddie's too?

Catherine shook her head and chastised herself for even thinking such things. It was completely irrational and served to only make her more miserable. Logically, she knew Steve loved her with all his heart. From the moment he'd uttered those three little words over a cellphone from halfway around the world, Catherine knew this day was inevitable.

Despite her best efforts to stay away, she couldn't run forever. And that's exactly what she'd done. She had run as far and as fast as she could because she couldn't face the implications of what Steve's love meant for her.

She had witnessed the emotional fallout from Freddie's death, from his father's death, and even Doris's to one degree or another. Seen the haunted looks and the sleepless nights, the personal war he'd waged against Wo Fat and Victor Hesse.

He didn't let much show beneath that tough warrior façade. But if you were lucky enough to get in there, to strip down those layers of regret and self-recrimination, Steve had a vulnerability that would leave you breathless.

Catherine caught glimpses of it, could see it in his eyes when he thought the world wasn't watching. She had seen it and felt it in their lovemaking, felt him come undone around her and clinging to her like a lifeline afterwards, whispering her name in the dark.

Steve had let her inside his heart, made a home for her there. And Catherine knew what a precious thing that was. But with that love came a possessiveness that she didn't know how to handle. Because Steve could take that love and that possessiveness and twist it into something ugly, something primal that she felt more than a little scared of. It fueled his anger, stoked a fire deep inside his belly that sustained him throughout the years.

It was Steve's Achilles heel, a weakness and a strength all rolled into one. And Catherine was afraid it would be his undoing in the end. Because when Steve found himself threatened, that vulnerability exposed, he lashed out, sometimes with grave consequences.

And Catherine knew without a doubt, that at that very moment Steve was feeding on that anger, using it as a shield against the Fowler and Bradley. And any fallout or collateral damage was going to be her fault.

Steve was taking an unnecessary risk all because Catherine couldn't handle her own emotional upheaval. And it wasn't just Steve now was it? Danny was out there too.

Danny was risking his own safety because of her. Danny who had two children to care for, one of them fighting for his very life, and Steve who was about to be a father in a few weeks in his own right. Unnecessary risks that wouldn't even have presented themselves if she'd just kept her fucking shit together!

Catherine slammed her fist against the desk, causing the few objects on the desk to rattle. A small picture frame toppled over and fell face down on the table. Catherine hadn't noticed it before. It was on the far edge of the desk, on the opposite side of the laptop. She reached over and retrieved it, turning it over in her hands. It was one of their wedding pictures. One of the candid shots, where they were facing one another, not even looking at the camera. Catherine ran her fingers along the edge of the sleek metal frame, Steve's bright smile went all the way to his eyes. They were alive with love and laughter, and Catherine's own expression mirrored that love right back. They looked happy and in love.

And in the end, wasn't that enough? Why did she have to be so damn greedy? Catherine sighed as she placed the picture back onto the desk before glancing at her watch. It had been almost two hours already. What was going on? What had Steve gotten himself into?

Steve hadn't been all that surprised at finding Fowler with Bradley. It made sense when he thought about it. What else was the man going to do with the data except confront Bradley with it?

Getting into Targus Enterprises had been simple enough. Some loose security on the ground floor of the business plaza which was easily bypassed. And the main receptionist for Targus had been easy enough to charm with a quick grin and flash of his badge. Bradley's personal secretary had been a little less receptive to their presence but Steve had persuaded her to give up her boss as well.

And now he stood in the large, spacious conference room on the 16th floor of the business plaza. A long bay of windows adorned one wall, overlooking Kalakaua Avenue. The long mahogany conference table spanned over half the length of the room and at the end of the table sat the two men in question.

Miles Bradley wasn't what Steve had expected. In fact, the guy bore a striking resemblance to that guy from that movie. What the hell was it again? That Leonardo DiCaprio movie about all the dreams?

Catherine had insisted they watch the film one evening, ensuring Steve that he'd love it. Steve had eyed his wife suspiciously certain that Catherine was trying to slip another chick flick on him again, but she had sworn she wasn't. Much to his surprise he had enjoyed the film, the plot was rather intricate and there was enough action to keep him sufficiently entertained.

Inception. That was the name of it. And Bradley, well he looked like the guy that was targeted in the film, the heir to the big corporation. The almost black hair and baby-faced features of that actor and Miles Bradley were uncanny. If Steve hadn't known any better, he'd have sworn it was the same guy.

And then there was Fowler, seated to the right of the movie star look-alike. He was shifting in his chair, eyes darting between Steve and Bradley, obviously trying to determine which threat was greater. Steve enjoyed watching the man squirm.

But his real focus fell to the four men standing behind Miles Bradley. Thugs dressed in business attire, but thugs nonetheless. Steve could make out the bulky stock of their weapons beneath their black corporate blazers.

Steve's eyes shifted towards his partners and Danny gave an almost unperceivable nod and glance back that told Steve his was just as aware of the men packing heat.

Steve's fingers twitched, his arm instinctively brushing aside the fabric of his blue button down shirt, exposing his badge and weapon. Instinctively, his hand settled on the grip of his Sig Sauer.

Danny stood just to his right in a similar pose, staring blankly ahead at the man seated at the far end of the table. The man had an air of arrogance about him that made Danny want to smack him. He had dark hair, like Fowler but it was shorter and lacked any grey. He wore an expensive double-breasted blue suit and tie.

"Gentlemen," Bradley broke the silence as he spoke, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Steve blinked. Definitely not the voice of the guy from the movie. Bradley's voice was deeper and sort of gravelly. "How do you do sir, I'm Commander Steve McGarrett from 5-0 and this is my partner, Detective Danny Will-"

"Yes, yes," Bradley cut in, waving his hand as though he were bored, "I know who you are Commander and I know all about your team. What I don't know is why you are here."

Steve gave a small nod, "Well that would depend on how willing you are to cooperate with my investigation." Steve could deflect, he was quite good at it.

"Cooperation?" Bradley seemed to mull over the word, "Interesting. Are you here on official police business?"

Steve glanced towards his partner, who gave another small nod and slight shrug of the shoulders, "Should we be?"

Bradley smiled, "Well it is rather fortuitous that you arrived when you did. Gentlemen, it seems I've become the victim of a crime."

Steve exchanged another glance with Danny before he began, "Last I checked the number was still 9-1-1." Danny nodded and mumbled, "9-1-1" behind him.

Bradley placed his elbows on the table and brought his hands together, "Yes, but you see the problem I have is rather unique. It seems that the perpetrator of this crime is a former Naval Intelligence Officer and partner to the head of the governor's elite task force. Which, by proxy, means that she would undoubtedly be granted…." Bradley paused for a moment, "What is it you call it? Ah yes, immunity and means."

"Sounds like a personal problem to me," Steve replied.

Bradley smiled and gave a small laugh, "That's good, really good."

Steve sighed, "Look, you and I both know that if wanted to press charges that you would have done so by now. And the fact that I don't have the Feds breathing down my neck right now tells me that you have no real intention of following through."

"And just how do you know I haven't contacted the FBI?" Bradley countered.

Steve didn't, if he was honest with himself. But he had several contacts inside the bureau that he was sure would have tipped him off by now if something was coming down, "Because if you had, the Cyber Crimes Taskforce would be crawling all over your office and mine. Besides that," Steve settled his gaze towards Fowler, "I'd say you have the real perp sitting beside you."

Fowler shifted in his seat, his eyes glancing down.

Bradley sat back and crossed his legs as he nodded, "You understand my position then, Commander. You can see why I prefer to handle things…." The four men stationed behind their boss moved a step closer, crowding around the man as he continued,"…internally."

So, it was going to be like that, Steve thought as he flexed his fingers around his weapon.

Kono glanced up from the tech table and gazed into her boss's office. Catherine was pacing the floor in circles, stopping every few feet to shift her weight and rub her lower back. Catherine had her back towards the outer room but she stopped once and glanced over her shoulder. Kono locked eyes with her friend briefly, but averted her gaze, feeling like a child who had been caught doing something wrong.

She tried to make herself look busy, studying the reflective surface of the tech table. Kono worried her bottom lip as she glanced back up and noticed that Catherine had taken a seat in one of the chairs, seemingly ignoring the rest of the team.

"Cuz?" Chin's voice broke through Kono's thoughts. She nodded, "I'm sorry. What were you sayin'?"

Chin gave a sad smile and shook his head, "Nothing." He regarded his cousin for a moment before nodding towards the big office, "You should go talk to her."

Kono sighed, "And say what exactly?"

Chin gave a thoughtful look, "Sometimes just being there is all you need. Show Catherine she's not alone. That your still her friend."

Kono nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

A beep from the tech table drew her attention and Kono studied the display carefully. It was the tracking software and it was giving them an alert that the RFID tag was changing locations.

Chin zoomed in and slid the image up to the large plasma display. "Fowler's on the move." He zoomed back out and watched the software continue to track the signal as it picked up speed, "Where are you going?" Chin pondered.

The map continued to refresh, and finally settled down onto a straight stretch of road that ran off the H1. Chin nodded, standing up straight, "He's headed for Sand Island."

"What about McGarrett and Williams?" Lou asked, "Can you track them? See if they're with him?"

Chin nodded and brought up the cell phone tracker. He quickly entered Steve's cell, followed by Danny's. It took the software a few moments to hone in on the signal but it registered two steady blips. "Signals are pinging off these two cell towers," Chin nodded as he adjusted the software to give a more specific location. "Got it," Chin pressed a few more buttons and swiped one map from the cell tracker and the GPS together, giving the team one clear image, "They're with Fowler."

Three little dots flashed across the display, clustered together. The two cell signals were in green and the GPS tracker was in red. The small blips were jumping across the screen every few minutes as the signals refreshed and the software updated.

"They must be in a car," Lou pointed out, "It's moving too fast for them to be on foot."

Chin nodded slowly but shook his head. Something didn't add up. Why would they be going to Sand Island? Surely if Steve and Danny had Fowler in custody they would be bringing the man back to the Palace to question him.

What was out there for his teammates to find? Uneasiness began to creep over the Lieutenant. 5-0 didn't' have the greatest track record when it came to that location. Innocent bodies washed up along the shore and deadly viruses to name a few. There were plenty of abandoned warehouses and fortifiable positions. It had been known as Quarantine Island, after all. A good place to dispose of a body, if need be.

No, something was definitely off, Chin was sure of it. He had learned early on in his career that a gut instinct went a long way in his line of work. And right then, his gut was sending out all sorts of red flags.

"Something's not right," Chin finally spoke. "No way would Steve and Danny take Fowler out there unless something else was going down."

"You don't think they would have called if something was wrong?" Kono asked.

"Maybe they can't," Lou reasoned.

"I'm not willing to take that chance," Chin nodded as his final decision had been reached. "If there's nothing going on, then it's no harm no foul."

"And if there is?" Lou chimed up.

"Then we're the backup." Chin hurried to his office and retrieved his phone and keys, Lou following closely behind.

Kono hovered in the background, unsure of what she should do. Chin seemed to sense her unease, "Kono, you stay here. I'm going to need you to help us track the signals."

"Maybe I should go with you," Kono offered.

"No, I need you here. And besides," Chin motioned towards the big office, "someone needs to stay here with Catherine."

"But I can patch the software through to our phones, you guys may need me to-"

"No, Cuz. Not this time. Besides, you know Steve would want it this way." Chin reasoned.

Kono nodded, "Yea. Okay."

Steve had messed up. He had underestimated Bradley and his goons. Hadn't considered the men to be the potential threat they were now posing. Instinctually, Steve had figured he was going to be first to be tackled. Was waiting for the first guy to make his move.

What Steve hadn't counted on were the other two guys that had slipped into the room without his knowledge. And how had that even happened? He could still hear the thud from the butt of the revolver as it cracked the back of Danny's skull.

Seen the way Danny had slumped forward without so much as a chance to get his weapon drawn. But Steve had registered the attack a split second before one of the men grabbed him from behind and managed to get his left arm free. The man had been so focused on making sure Steve didn't draw his weapon that he left Steve's other arm unguarded.

Steve reared his elbow back and up, slicing through the air and landing on the thug's face with a satisfying whack. Once, then twice Steve managed to knock the man in the face, busting his nose before two more men descended upon him.

And now Steve shifted on the dirty floor of a passenger van. He felt the burning ache in his shoulders as well as the bite of the plastic zip cuffs digging into his wrists behind his back.

Despite not being able to see outside the windows in the back, he could tell they were on the freeway judging by the acceleration of the van and the smooth ride.

Steve heard the soft the moans of his partner beside him. Danny lolled his head backwards and winced, his eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the dim light around him.

"Danny? Danno? You okay?" Steve whispered.

Danny moaned again, pulling at his own restraints before deflating, "Just peachy."

Steve studied Danny's face for a few seconds before he felt a bit of tension uncurl from his belly. Danny seemed pretty alert and his eyes were tracking around the van. Steve didn't notice any blood on the Detective's shirt collar, so whatever head injury he'd sustained couldn't have been that bad.

Steve continued his sweep of the van and saw Fowler huddled in the opposite corner. The man was restrained as well and his eyes were shifting about. Steve could tell his breathing was labored as sweat rolled down the man's face and soaked his clothes. It wasn't all that hot in the back of the van, so Steve figured it was nerves.

A little further to his right, on the other side of Danny was the big goon he'd taken a swipe at. Steve couldn't help the surge of satisfaction as he studied his handiwork, noticing the way the goon's left eye was trying to swell shut and the copious amounts of blood that had run down the guy's lips and chin. Yeah, Steve had definitely broken the guys nose.

Danny cleared his throat, gaining Steve's attention. Danny gave a small smile and then diverted his eyes down and to the side. It took a moment for Steve to register what the man was trying to tell him until he saw the dull, rusted bit of a nail between the Detective's fingers.

Steve glanced back up and gave a subtle nod in understanding. He waited patiently for an opportune moment. When the van veered off the freeway and onto another road Steve took advantage of the momentum, throwing his weight to the right and toppling over against his partner's side.

"Ummpfh!" Danny acted as though the wind had been knocked out of him, "Get off me you big goof!" Danny pushed back, slipping the nail into Steve's hand in the process.

"Sorry, Danno." Steve managed to upright himself again as he bent his wrists against the plastic restraints. He managed to twist his fingers enough to get the metal tip against the hard plastic band.

The big goon didn't seem to have noticed the exchange, or he simply didn't want to be bothered by it. Either way, Steve used the opportunity to his advantage as he started rubbing the nail against the plastic.

"Hey, you know you can still walk away from this." Steve began, pausing until he was sure he had the goon's attention. "If you let me and my partner go, we can work this out. Maybe even make sure you don't do any jail time." The goon stared back with a blank expression.

Steve nodded, "Then you should know your chances of surviving this are not good. Because the first chance I get, I'm gonna kill you."

That finally got a reaction from the man as the goon clenched his jaw, "You don't scare me." His voice was thick with an accent. Russian, by the sound of it. He lifted his hand and placed the barrel end of his Glock 9 against the side of Danny's head, "Perhaps I should start with the little man first, no?"

"Steven," Danny began, "what have I told you about taunting the animals? Huh?"

Steve shrugged, "Don't worry, Danno. He's not going to shoot anyone," Steve looked back up at the goon, "are you big guy?"

The man shouted something in Russian, digging the barrel further into Danny's skull.

Steve kept his tone calm and placating, "Easy, easy! Okay, I get it! But stop for a second and think about what you're doing? My partner and I, we're 5-0. Alright? If you kill either of us, I can guarantee you that the entire island will be placed on lock down and you WILL be found. Believe me, you don't want that kind of heat."

The goon spat out another round of Russian expletives before he relented, pulling the barrel of the gun away from Danny's head.

Danny glowered at Steve for a moment before shaking his head and muttering to himself. Steve continued to work the nail against the plastic, he could feel the edge of the surface beginning to wear a little. Steve tried to wiggle his wrists and felt the restraints begin to give slightly.

The van came to an abrupt halt, signaling their arrival to wherever their destination might have been. Steve worked faster, rubbing the nail against the jagged edge of the cuff. He could feel the sting of the plastic digging into his skin, raw and abused. Tiny rivulets of blood began to ooze out from around the straps, creating a slight lubrication as he continued to work his fingers.

The back doors of the van swung open, sunlight pouring into the back. Steve blinked against the harsh light, his eyes trying to adjust. Fowler was grabbed first, his eyes looking frantic as he was dragged out of the van.

Steve shifted, trying to calculate his move as one of the goons stepped up and into the van, crouching down as he reached out for Danny. Steve felt a surge of adrenaline as he gave one final tug at the cuffs. The plastic gave way with a soft pop and Steve lunged forward, tackling the guy back out of the van and onto the ground.

They hit the concrete hard, forcing the air out of the goon's lungs. Steve took advantage of the moment and grabbed the guy's head and jerked it back and forward again, listening to the dull thud of his skull as it made contact with the concrete below. Satisfied that the guy was out for the count, Steve retrieved the man's weapon, spinning around quickly.

The big goon, the one with the busted nose, was now standing before Steve with the barrel of the gun pointed back at Danny's skull, "Don't move. Or I shoot your friend."

Steve raised his weapon, despite the warning, taking aim at the goon's head, "You let him go now and I'll consider not killing you."

"Gentlemen," the deep gravely voice floated from around the corner of the van before its owner appeared. Miles Bradley smiled as he took in the scene, "Let's not get messy, shall we? Nobody has to die this way. Let's just call this a communications error for lack of a better term."

Steve watched as more of the goons circled around them. Fowler was struggling as one of the men grabbed him. Danny was simply shaking his head and Steve closed his eyes and swore softly. This was going to end badly.


	4. Chapter 4

Kono studied the surface of the tech table as she retrieved her cellphone from her pocket. She laid the device on the table, noting that the little cluster of blinking dots had finally stopped moving.

She frowned, zooming in on the location further, noticing they were at the edge of the island, towards the docks.

"Where'd everyone go?" Catherine's voice drifted around her.

Kono shot her eyes up, finding Catherine leaning against the doorframe of Steve's office. She looked tired, her eyes still red-rimmed from her crying earlier. "Hey there," Kono offered, trying to evade the question.

"Kono?" Catherine shifted, moving into the room as the door closed behind her, "What's going on?"

"It's probably nothing," Kono supplied. Catherine gave her an appraising look and she finally relented and sighed, "We tracked the guys cellphone signals, it looks like Steve and Danny are with Fowler. Chin and Lou went to check it out, to make sure everything was okay."

"But it's not, is it?" Catherine felt her stomach start to churn.

Kono shook her head, "We don't' know anything for sure. It may be nothing."

"But it could be something! Dammit!" Catherine started pacing the floor. She was afraid for Steve and Danny. Afraid of Fowler and Bradley and what they might be capable of. "This is all my fault, Kono. How could I have been so stupid?" she whispered.

Kono glanced away, pointedly looking at some unknown spot on the floor. She didn't know what to say to that. She couldn't lie to her friend and tell her it wasn't her fault, because the truth was Catherine was responsible for whatever was happening. But she didn't want her friend to be upset either. She finally decided that silence wasn't going to solve anything, "Look, Cath, it's a complicated situation. We all know you didn't mean to start anything. It just happened. Everyone understands that, alright?"

Catherine sighed and nodded, "Yeah, I guess." She rolled her shoulders around and arched her back, trying to stretch. She managed to get her arms extended and started to yawn before she winced and brought her hands to her belly, "Oooh!"

"Are you okay?" Kono looked nervous. The last thing they needed was something happening with the baby.

Catherine shook her head, "No, it's fine. Just the baby's kicking, is all."

Kono moved around the table towards her friend, "Really? Can I feel?" She knew it sounded lame. She'd always made fun of people who did that before, but now she found herself curious about the experience.

"Sure," Catherine guided her hand to the right spot. It only took a moment before the baby gave another kick and Kono's eyes widened. Catherine smiled, "Yeah, the baby has been pretty active over the past month or so," she shook her head fondly, "I swear, some days I think she's using my bladder as a soccer ball."

Kono arched her eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, "She?"

"Crap," Catherine closed her eyes as she swore, then gave a shy smile, "Yeah sorry about that. It was supposed to be a surprise. Steve, he, uh didn't want anyone to know that we knew."

Kono smiled, "Well your secret is safe with me!"

The familiar buzz of a cellphone sounded as the phone started vibrating across the tech table. Kono raced back to the table to answer the call, placing it on speaker, "Chin, what's up?"

"Hey Cuz, you still tracking the signals?" Chin's voice carried over the tiny speaker.

Kono glanced at the screen and noted the three blinking dots, "Sure am. They've stopped though, looks like they're located at some old docks along the shore-"

"Kono!" Catherine interrupted, pointing to the screen as the red dot flickered and then disappeared.

"Hey Chin, we just lost the tracker on Fowler." Kono relayed.

"What do mean? Where'd it go?"

Kono typed a few commands, trying to refresh the GPS software, but nothing registered, "I don't know. It's just gone. Disappeared. I'm still reading Steve and Danny's cells though."

"Damn," Chin sighed, "Alright, we're already on the access road, no more than a few minutes out. Stay on the line, and keep trying to get that signal back."

"Copy that, Kono out." She glanced back towards Catherine, who was hugging herself and looking decidedly worried. "You know how Steve and Danny are, Cath. I'm sure they're fine."

"I hope you're right, Kono," Catherine nodded, "I hope you're right."

Bradley walked towards Steve with purpose, not even faltering when Steve shifted his aim from the goon to the dead center of his head. He walked straight up to the gun and swatted at the barrel as though he were trying to bat away a fly, "Commander, there's no need to get so worked up."

"Then tell your guy to release my partner," Steve countered.

"Very well," Bradley raised his arm and simply clicked his fingers, not even glancing back.

The goon let go of Danny, pushing him forward as he did. Danny stumbled but managed to find his balance before he forward. He straightened back up, eyeing Bradley.

"There," Bradley smiled, "No harm no foul." He glanced towards the barrel of the gun that Steve had pointed towards him, "Now, if you would be so kind." He gestured.

Steve looked to Danny, an unspoken conversation floating between them. He wanted to shoot Bradley for the sheer pleasure of it. The condescending asshole deserved it and was almost begging for it. It was his fault that Catherine was in danger, his fault that Danny had been injured.

But Danny's expression made him stop. It silently told him to think about what he was doing. To think about the repercussions of his actions.

Steve finally gave in and lowered the gun, Danny giving a small nod in agreement.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Bradley winked as he patted Steve on the shoulder before walking around him.

Steve watched Bradley as he moved towards Fowler. The wind was beginning to whip up off the water and it was blowing up the tails of the businessman's jacket as he inched closer to Fowler.

He stopped a few inches before the man, straightening his tie before he spoke, "I have to say I was a bit surprised by your actions today, Robert. I didn't expect you to be so hands on in your investigation. Perhaps I misjudged you as a competitor."

Fowler blanched, "Look, Miles, this was all a huge mistake and I apologize. I didn't mean to try and give you the impression that I was looking for anything illegal-"

"Eh, tut, tut, tut!" Bradley cocked his head and raised a finger to silence the man before him, "I don't suffer fools lightly, Robert. Nor did I figure you'd take me for one either. If you were merely interested in my company's financial outlook, you could have simply gone to the SEC and pulled a report. No, you were looking for something else, something you thought you could hold over me."

Bradley shoved his hands in his pockets as he continued, "The fact was I knew you were coming. See, I found this hacker, this kid, online. 16 years old, if you can believe it," Bradley shook his head, "Only had to pay the punk $300 and he wrote that beautiful snippet of code. All I had to do was bait the trap and wait."

Steve watched the exchange, trying to weigh his options. His hand flexed around the grip of the Glock. The wind picked up again and whistled around his ears. He wondered if he could use the noise to his advantage, maybe Bradley wouldn't hear him approach him from behind.

Fowler shifted in the goon's grip again, "Seriously, Miles, please! I never meant to hurt you. Honestly. How long have we known each other? You have to believe me!"

Bradley sighed, "Oh Robert. I really expected more from you. Given our previous encounters, I had hoped you would have learned your lesson by now. You were always trying to outfox the fox." He reached out and patted Fowler down, landing on the breast pocket of his suit. He gave another good pat before reaching inside and retrieving the data drive.

"See, this is why you can't stay out of trouble Robert," Bradley flourished the drive in front of the other man's face, "Ever since I've known you, you were always trying to play both sides of the game." Bradley gave one last glance at the thumb drive before he flung it out over the water. The device gave a small plunk as it hit the water and fell into the depths of the ocean.

Bradley turned around, facing Steve and Danny. He unbuttoned his jacket and reached into the inside pocket, retrieving a pair of black gloves. "Now, gentlemen. It's time to get down to brass tacks." He gave a quick nod to one of his men who disappeared behind the van. Bradley slipped the gloves onto his hands, "I have to admit, your arrival was unexpected. But I'm nothing, if not flexible."

The goon returned with two guns that Steve registered as his Sig and Danny's P30. He carried them on a white towel, presenting them to his boss. Steve felt a cold sense of dread start to creep up his spine.

Bradley picked up the Sig, giving an appraising look, "You know, Commander, I have to say I am quite fond of your choice of firearms. A man with your background and interests I have no doubt you can shoot practically any piece that comes your way. But I have always admired the P226. Easy to draw, quick to fire, it's a perfect compliment to you personality isn't it?"

Steve glared at the man, not giving him the satisfaction of a response.

Bradley smiled, "No matter." He turns back around and walks up to Fowler again and smiled, "I'm truly sorry it has to be this way." Before the man could respond Bradley fires the Sig, a single round discharging, slamming into Fowler's chest.

Steve watched in horror as Fowler's eyes grew wide as the man gasped and began to choke, a deep gurgling sound rising from his chest. The big goon griped Fowler and manhandled him across the edge of the dock, tossing his body into the water.

Bradley shrugged, readjusting his tie once more before turning back around. Steve raised the Glock and yelled to the man, "Put the weapon down now!"

"Or what?" Bradley raised his hands in a show of surrender, but kept his grip on the Sig. "You going to shoot me Commander McGarrett? The same way you just shot poor Robert Fowler?"

"No one will buy that story and you know it," Steve spat back.

"Really? Seems to me that you wanted Fowler dead. By your own admission he was the man responsible for the mess your wife currently finds herself entangled in. Disposing of Fowler and the evidence seems like a logical choice if it ensured the safety of your wife and unborn child. Wouldn't you agree?" Bradley reasoned.

Steve felt his anger begin to burn deep inside his belly. How dare that man even speak of Catherine or his child! What right did he have? "Drop. The Weapon. NOW!" Steve felt a slight tremor course through his hand, finger poised above the trigger.

"Steve." Danny's voice held a warning as it drifted from behind him, but Steve couldn't focus on it. Blood roared in his ears, his head pounded, his focus narrowed down to barrel of the gun and the man at the opposite end of it. There was no way Bradley would just walk away from this. The man was too big of a threat to simply let go. No, Steve was certain that the man wouldn't let the issue rest. His finger itched. He wanted to pull the trigger. He NEEDED to pull the trigger. The pad of his finger rested against the trigger and he'd just begun to put pressure on it when the searing pain shot through his right shoulder, causing Steve to stumbled forward and drop the Glock.

The weapon clattered against the concrete walkway as Steve crumbled to the ground, clutching his right shoulder with his left hand, blood beginning to seep between his fingers. Steve cried out in pain before clenching his jaw.

Bradley stepped forward and swept the Glock away with his foot, watching it skitter along the rough surface, out of Steve's reach. Bradley squatted down before Steve, "You see Commander, it didn't have to be this way. I never invited you to my party. I was prepared to deal with Fowler on my own terms. But you can't let it go, can you? You can't stand the idea that you are not the one in control. And believe me, you are most definitely NOT in control here."

"I'm gonna kill you," Steve gritted out, still clutching his shoulder, "You understand me?"

Bradley nodded, "You can try. And, who knows, one day you may even succeed. But not today." He looked over Steve's shoulder and gave another nod to the goon next to Danny.

The big man retrieved a switchblade from his pocket. Danny eyed him warily as he approached, bracing himself for an inevitable attach. Much to Danny's surprise he felt the blade slip between his wrists and slice open the plastic cuffs.

Danny brought his arms forward, rubbing his wrists as the blood rushed back into his hands. He stumbled as the goon drove him forward, finally toppling onto the concrete next to Steve. Danny scrambled over to his friend, trying to assess how bad the bullet wound was.

Bradley placed the butt of the Sig into Steve's limp hand. Steve instantly wrapped his fingers around the grip, wincing against the pain as he tried to raise the weapon with a shaky hand.

"Easy, Commander. I made sure my men emptied the clip, leaving only the chambered round before. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, now would I?" Bradley shook his head as he stood up, making a sweeping gesture to his men. They all began to scramble around, climbing into various vehicles and racing out of the parking area.

The goon with the weapons stepped forward again and presented Bradley with Danny's P30. Bradley picked up the gun, removing the clip and placing it into his jacket pocket. He began pulling back on the slide repeatedly, watching the bullets drop and bounce away. Satisfied that the gun was empty, Bradley tossed the weapon at Danny's feet, "I trust you men can find your own way back. Good day, gentlemen."

With that, Bradley disappeared around the van and was gone by the time the other vehicle moved. Steve groaned in a fury of a pain and disappointment. Bradley was certifiable. What the hell did he think he was going to accomplish?

Steve hissed as Danny pried his fingers from his shoulder.

"Jesus, Steve!" Danny shook his head, "I knew this was a bad idea."

"What did you want me to do, Danny?" Steve balled his left hand into a fist, "Fucking Bradley and is band of sycophants."

Danny shook his head, "Yeah, well no arguments there." He tried to study the wound closely, "I can't see anything for all the blood. You're going to need to take off your shirt."

"There's no time for that, Danno. We've got to tail Bradley, find out what his endgame is."

"Sure thing, buddy," Danny began sarcastically, "Let's just go right now. Oh wait, you're leaking blood all over the ground and we have NO CAR!"

Steve shook his head, "You're over exaggerating as usual."

Danny mumbled under his breath as he retrieved his cellphone, "Good thing those guys didn't take this." He had just dialed the number when he noticed another vehicle approaching fast. "Steve, we've got company," Danny warned.

Steve glanced up and blinked against the harsh sunlight as it bounced off the concrete laid out before him. The road shimmered as the dark SUV drew closer, blue lights blinking across the front fender. He slumped back down, relief flooding through him, "It's Lou."

Danny flagged them down as the vehicle approached. Chin and Lou jumped out of the truck as soon as it was parked, weapons drawn as they made their way towards their teammates.

"Steve! Danny! You guys alright?" Chin hollered as he advanced.

"We're good," Steve yelled back, "Did you guys see a bunch of cars hauling ass in the opposite direction?"

"We're good," Danny mumbled, "Unbelievable."

"Yeah, we saw them," Lou answered before slowing down, "Why?"

"Call HPD and have them track them down. It's Bradley and a bunch of Russian cronies posing as his security." Steve tried to stand up and move, only to get lightheaded. He stumbled, Danny catching him before he collapsed.

"Easy there tough guy," Danny wrapped his arm around Steve's waist, "You're not ready for that kind of fancy footwork."

Chin made it to the scene first, zeroing in on Steve's injured shoulder, "What happened?"

Danny started first, cutting Steve off, "Bradley already had plans for Fowler. He shot the guy with Steve's gun before having one of his goons toss Fowler into the water. He also tossed the thumb drive in as well."

Chin nodded, "Yeah, we figured something was going down. Kono said she lost the tracker on the thumb drive about 10 minutes ago. But we still had your cell signals."

"Chin? Are you there? Chin?" Kono's tiny voice drifted across the breeze. Chin holstered his weapon and then retrieved his cell from his beltclip, "Yeah Kono, I'm here. Steve and Danny are here too."

"Are they okay?" Catherine's voice interrupted.

Steve's eyes grew wide at the sound of her voice as he stumbled to get closer to the tiny speaker of the phone, "Cath?!"

"Steve!" Catherine's voice sounded relieved. "Please tell me you guys are okay!"

"We're fine," Steve tried to assure her, "Everything is fine." Steve shot Danny a steely look as the man looked like he was about to object before continuing, "How are you, are you okay? How's the baby?"

"I'm good, Steve. We're both good." Catherine assured.

Steve nodded and slumped back against Danny's side, the last of his fight leaving his body, "Good."

Chin cleared his throat, "Listen guys, I hate to interrupt but we've got a real mess to clean up."

Steve nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

Chin said his goodbyes to Kono and Catherine before ending the call, "Danny, you take Steve to the ER. Lou and I will finish up here. I'll call HPD and get them to start canvasing the area and pull any traffic cams along the service route. Maybe we can get lucky and catch a glimpse of some of the license plates."

Lou added, "And I'll coordinate with the dive team to try and recover Fowler's body and maybe even the data drive, if we're real lucky."

Catherine rushed through the doors of the emergency room department at King's Medical Center. She weaved her way through the sea of bodies as she made her way past the waiting area.

It hadn't taken her long to figure out that Steve wasn't as fine as he had claimed to be. Kono had gotten shifty after her phone call with Chin, trying not to answer any direct questions regarding her boss. Catherine managed to finagle the truth from her friend. Danny had texted Kono and told her that they were headed for the hospital. Catherine didn't need any more information to know that Steve was injured.

She chastised herself for believing Steve when he'd told her he way okay. Of course he wasn't and she should have known better. Catherine knew the man, knew how he was. How Steve could have had an arm chopped off and still tell the world he was "fine".

Catherine poked her nose into several triage areas before finally finding the right room. She barreled into the room, "Steve! My God! Is this your idea of being ok?!"

Steve glanced up from where the nurse was busy bandaging his shoulder. Fortunately the bullet hadn't damaged any major blood vessels or muscle tissue. Just a minor flesh wound but it still hurt like a son of a bitch.

He noticed the harried look of his wife as she waddled across the room towards the bed, "Catherine what are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? Seriously?" Catherine shook her head, "I can't believe you, you know that."

"Did you come here alone? Where's Kono?" Steve looked around the room, trying to see into the hallway. He ignored his wife's questions, only concerned about her safety, "You shouldn't be here by yourself."

"Kono is back at the Palace. And I'm just fine, thank you very much. I'm a big girl, I can handle driving myself to the hospital, which is more than I can say for you at the moment."

Steve deflated, managing a quick nod to the nurse as he finished up the bandage and left the room, "It's just a flesh wound, nothing serious. I didn't want you to worry, that's all."

Catherine nodded, relief flooding through her as she realized that Steve would be okay just as he had stated. She glanced around the room, only then realizing that Danny was seated off to the side in a hard plastic chair against the wall. His head was tossed back, eyes closed. But he obviously sensed her gaze.

"Hey Catherine. I told the big ape to call you. But you know he never listens to me."

Catherine gave a small laugh, "Oh I know. He never listens to anyone." She gave a playful punch to Steve's left arm.

Steve mocked being hurt by her blow and pouted playfully, "Hey, injured guy here."

She smiled and then turned serious again, "Steve, if something had happened to you today, I don't know what I would have done."

"Hey, hey, come on," Steve took her hands, "I'm fine."

Catherine nodded silently before slipping onto the gurney next to her husband. She slid her arms around his waist before she placed her head against his bare shoulder. She closed her eyes and gave a prayer to whatever fates were listening that Steve stayed safe. She needed him, so much. And she didn't want to think about what his loss would do to her or their child.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Authors Notes: Okay, fair warning here. Angst ahead. Steve gets kinda tough. So if you are opposed to an angry Steve then you might not want to read. Having said that, I felt that he was justified in his anger and frustration.

* * *

The drive back from the hospital had been quiet. After leaving the hospital and working out the logistics of getting everyone back to their respective vehicles, Catherine drove in silence as she made her way home.

Steve had become quiet before they left the hospital and it concerned Catherine. She couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind as they made their way back home.

It was dark by the time they arrived home, the long day having turned into early evening. Catherine trudged into the house wearily. She fumbled with the table lamp, flooding the room with the soft light. She then tossed her keys and a small paper bag onto the side table next to the door before dropping her purse to the floor.

Steve entered slowly behind, securing the door as Catherine made her way towards the kitchen. He divested himself of his own keys, badge and holstered weapon, placing them on the table as well. He could hear Catherine moving around in the kitchen as he made his way upstairs to change his shirt.

Catherine listened to the familiar creak of the floorboards as she heard Steve move up the stairs. She felt a bit of tension release from her shoulders as she opened the refrigerator door, rummaging for something edible to fix for dinner. Coming up empty, she closed the door and retrieved the stack of take-out menus they kept on hand for just such an occasion.

She thumbed through the papers, deciding on a small delicatessen that delivered. Catherine placed their order quickly, already knowing Steve's favorite sandwich and sides. She thanked the man on the other end of the line before pocketing her cellphone. It wasn't too expensive and she still had the cash from the business deal with Fowler. She'd just get the cash from her purse and-

Catherine found herself face to face with Steve as she spun around. She jumped slightly, surprised that he was there since she didn't recall hearing him come down the stairs, "Oh Jesus! Steve! You scared me."

"Sorry," Steve mumbled.

Catherine took in her husband's appearance. He had changed into one of his well-worn cotton tees with the SEALS logo across the front. He also donned a pair of navy blue sleep pants. But what really got her attention was the haggard look of his face. The dark stubble across his cheeks, the sunken look of his eyes, and the painful expression of his features.

She tried to plaster on a smile for him, "C'mon, let's go sit down before you fall over. I ordered us some dinner. Should be here in a little while. But you need your meds first. Now, where did I put them?"

"Catherine," Steve began as she turned away from him, muttering under her breath as she moved back towards the door. She leaned over and retrieved a small bag from the table. Catherine moved back into the kitchen, brushing past Steve as he tried to reach out for her.

Catherine opened the refrigerator door and grabbed a bottle of water. She opened the sack and fished out the two prescription bottles, reading the labels.

"Catherine, look. We need to-"

"Okay, it says here that you need to eat with the antibiotic. So that one can wait." She placed the one bottle on the kitchen island, "But the pain pill you can go ahead even though-"

Steve felt his frustration begin to rise, "Cath. Would just stop for a second and lis-"

"-you should really eat with it too. But I can tell you're in pain, so-"

"Dammit! STOP!" Steve ripped the bottle from her hands and slammed it against the counter, "I don't want any fucking pills, Cath! I want to talk!"

Catherine stood stunned. She swallowed hard and nodded, wrapping her arms around herself.

Steve blew out a deep breath, "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I just, I dunno, Cath. We've been putting this off for a while now. And after today, I just…. I can't do this any longer. I need to know what's going on with you, alright? I need you to be straight with me. Can you understand that?"

"Yea," she whispered before clearing her throat, "Yea, I can. And you're right, you deserve to know the truth."

Steve sagged against the doorway, grateful that Catherine seemed willing to talk. He'd been prepared for another confrontation or some other form of resistance but he was glad he wasn't going to have to fight to get some answers. He reached out and took her hand, guiding her back into the living room. Catherine went willingly, settling down beside her husband on the sofa as he took her hands into his own, "Tell me what's going on with you, Cath. Tell me how to help you."

Catherine stared at their hands, watching silently as he brushed his thumbs across the top of her hands. She had been trying to make sense of it all. Trying to figure out the best way to begin, "It's been hard. Since I've been back. I don't know how to explain it really. But I just don't feel like I fit in anymore, you know? Like I don't have a place here on the island."

"What do you mean? I don't understand." Steve looked confused.

"I know. And I don't really understand it myself. I just, I just know how I feel. I feel like everyone and everything has moved on without me and I don't even know who I am anymore or where I belong."

"Of course you have a place, you've always had a place here. You're family, your ohana, they're here too. And most of all, you belong here, Catherine. With me. "

Catherine searched his face, "Do I? I mean really?"

Steve gave a pained expression, "What? Why? Why would you-" he shook his head, "I don't- Why would you even ask that?"

"I don't know, Steve. I mean you have a life, you know? You have a great job and, and wonderful friends and this whole mesh of people and things that you surround yourself with. I don't have that, okay. I don't fit in to that world anymore. I feel like I'm on the outside looking in. I just. Don't fit in," she finished softly. Catherine watched his face closely, noticing the guarded expression that fell across his features.

"I don't know, maybe I screwed up, coming back here." Catherine watched as his eyes grew wide before she continued, "I thought I could have my old life back, I thought maybe things would be like they were before. I don't. I don't know what I thought."

"What are you saying, Cath?" Steve let go of her hands, jerking them back as though he was physically burned, "Are you saying you want to leave? That you want out of our relationship? Out of our marriage? Is that it?"

"NO!" Catherine shook her head vigorously, "No, that's not it at all. I just…." She didn't know how to finish her statement.

"I am HERE, Catherine. I have always been here. When you took off for Afghanistan almost two years ago, I was there. I stood by you, I almost DIED for you, Cath! And I supported your decision to stay behind and find Najib and help that village because it's what you wanted to do and I never resented you for that, not once. I was still here when you told me to move on because I couldn't. I couldn't move on because I loved you. I'm still in love with you!

And when you showed back up on the island, out of the blue like that? I can't even describe how I felt. It was unbelievable. And I thought that finally, we were on the same page for once in our lives, and that you and I wanted the same things, you know? I asked you to be my wife! To spend the rest of our lives together! What else do you want from me, Catherine? What else is it going to take to prove to you how much I love you, how much I need you?"

Catherine felt the tears well up in her eyes as she heard Steve's declarations of love and devotion. In all their years together she hadn't ever heard him sound so sure of anything as he did right then. "I love you too, Steve," the tears started to fall down her cheeks, "With all my heart, I do. So much so that it takes my breath away sometimes. And I know how blessed I am to have you in my life, I just-" Catherine shook her head, frustrated that she couldn't find the words she desperately needed.

Steve sighed, feeling frustrated as well. He didn't understand what she was trying to say, or what else he could do to help her. And he still wasn't entirely convinced that she wasn't ready to walk away from him and their marriage. And what about the baby? "Cath, look, I'm trying to underst-"

A loud knock at the door startled them both. Steve sighed and rubbed his hand across his face as he stood up. Catherine began wiping the tears from her cheeks as Steve answered the knock. She kept her back towards the door and listened as Steve took the food and paid the delivery boy for their meal. "Mahalo," Steve added before he closed the door. He trekked across the room and into the kitchen, placing the bag with their meal on the small island before heading back into the living room.

Catherine stood up, wringing her hands, "I need a life, Steve."

Steve stopped short, turning his head to the side, "A life?"

"Yes. A life outside of you, outside of us. I don't feel like I have one, you know? I need my own identity. To be something independent from this thing we have. I don't want to lose myself." Catherine paused trying to gather her thoughts, "Look, after I left the Navy I felt like I lost some part of myself. I had been in the military for so long and I didn't know what else there was waiting for me. And then there was the job with Billy and I-" Catherine shook her head as the painful memories of his loss came bubbling to the surface again. "And when you asked me to join 5-0, I jumped at the chance to be a part of something again. Something that was greater than myself, to try and make a difference. But that didn't last, Steve."

"No, you're right, it didn't last," Steve agreed. "It didn't last because you took off, Cath. You left everyone behind to help a group of people in need because you told me it's what you needed to do. That you had found that purpose and place in life. But you didn't really did you? Because you came back. Here. To Oahu."

"You're right," Catherine nodded, "I didn't find what I thought I needed. But I can't sit around and do nothing all the time. I am not about to be some glorified housewife at your beck and call, Steve. That's not who I am!"

"Hold on a second," Steve raised his hands, "When have I EVER said that's what I wanted from you? When did I give you that impression? Because I have never wanted that for you or us. I support you, I am willing to stand by you in whatever you want to do," Steve paused before adding, "within reason."

And there it was, Catherine thought with a rising surge of anger. "Within reason. Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Hold on, you think that I'm trying to control you? Is that it? I'm trying to look out for you, Catherine. You can't take unnecessary risks anymore. Because, in case you haven't realized it yet, you are carrying our child! It's not just about you anymore. It's about that baby. And me. And us."

"I get that, I do, it's just-" Catherine shook her head again, her anger finally bubbling over. "You don't know what it's like, okay?! To sit here in this house, day after day, not having any purpose other than being a human incubator. To be a glorified maid and errand service. To feel so isolated and alone. To be cut off from the world!"

Steve rubbed his hands over his face and sighed, "Is that it, Catherine? Is that what you do all day in this house? You sit around and think about how miserable you can make yourself? You figure you can just shut everybody out and then blame us for it?"

"Don't you do dare judge me! It's easy for you to stand there and criticize me because you have a life, Steve. You go to work everyday and you have a purpose and friends and an entire team. I don't, okay? I have nothing!"

"Nothing?" Steve shook his head, feeling his anger blossoming in his chest, "You have nothing, huh? What about me? What about our child? We're nothing to you, is that it? We're not good enough for you?"

"You're twisting my words! Of course I have you and the baby. I love you, okay! I just need to be myself. I need to know that I have a greater purpose in life."

"So being a wife and a mother isn't a big enough purpose for you, Cath? You need more? I can't think of any greater purpose than being a parent. To be responsible for shaping and molding a persons life is HUGE! What else can you possibly want?"

"You know what I mean!" Catherine cried out.

"No, I don't! I don't know what you mean at all. I am trying to figure that out but all I keep hearing is how unhappy you are with your life. And how I may be partially responsible for it." Steve paced the floor before stopping back in front of Catherine, "You're so unhappy Cath? You're so goddamn miserable being my wife? Then fucking leave! Pack your shit and get the hell out! But know this, if you think you can run away again and try and take my daughter away from me, you better think twice. Because I will fight you for her, with everything I have."

Catherine was stunned. She hadn't expected to hear such anger or fear directed towards her. But she should have. She knew how deep Steve's fears ran. How huge his abandonment issues were. And she felt like awful for what she'd done. It was like rubbing salt into an open wound, grinding it down, deeper into the skin. Painful and raw. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise." She wiped her cheeks again and sniffed, "I wouldn't do that you, to us. I want this. You. Here with me. And I want our daughter and to be a real family."

Steve gave a small nod, tears prickling at the corners of his own eyes, "Good. That's good." He reached out and gathered Catherine into his arms and breathed in her scent, "I love you, okay? And I want to help you, I really do. I just need to know you're not going to leave. That you aren't planning to take off when things get tough."

"I'm not, I swear." Catherine clung to her husband, nestling her head against his chest.

Steve nodded, kissing her hair before pulling back, "Look, you need help, Catherine. You can't go on this way. And I don't know what to do for you. Maybe you need to talk to someone. A therapist or something. Someone you can confide in and get all these emotions sorted out."

Catherine nodded, "Yea, maybe you're right." She gave a small smile, "I can't believe you of all people are recommending I see a shrink though."

Steve gave a small chuckle, "Yea, well, maybe I'm not as opposed to them as I once was. That one lady did help Danny and I, so maybe they aren't as bad as all that."

"Maybe," Catherine agreed. She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, fingers brushing against the days worth of stubble that had grown in, "I can't say enough how sorry I am, Steve. For everything. For Fowler and Bradley, for this whole mess." She moved her hands down to Steve's shoulder, brushing against the hidden bandage beneath the cotton tee.

Steve nodded, "I know, Cath. I know you didn't mean for any of this to happen." He leaned down and brushed his lips against his wife's in a gentle kiss. Catherine responded in kind as she ran her hands across his chest before settling them around his waist. She teased his lips before surging up and deepening the kiss.

Steve moaned, his arms wrapping around Catherine's back, embracing her as he began to explore her mouth with his tongue. She gave back as good as got until they had to come up for air, both of them pulling back, panting.

Catherine was about to say something when she heard a strange gurgling sound. She arched an eyebrow and studied Steve's face. He shrugged, "I'm hungry." Catherine grinned, "Yeah, me too." She slipped her hand into Steve's, entwining their fingers as he brought their hands up to his lips. Catherine watched his eyes darken as he planted a soft kiss against their fingers. She felt her pulse quicken and a pang of desire course through her body, something she hadn't experienced for several weeks.

She cleared her throat, "Dinner."

"Dinner," Steve repeated, noticing the blown look of her pupils. He disentangled his hand from hers before moving back in, his lips hovering just above her own, "And then…." He trailed off, his breath tickling against her skin.

"And then…." Catherine closed her eyes and nodded, "…. Yea." Because she wanted that connection, needed to feel grounded again. And she felt a sense of normalcy settle over her at the sensation of it all. She was going to work it out. Figure out some way to make peace with her problems because she had Steve and his love and that would be enough. Somehow it would just have to be enough.

TBC


End file.
